Conspiracy of Silence: Second Sight
by Nomad1
Summary: Severus Snape's second year at Hogwarts. Some things demand a closer look...
1. Chapter One

** Conspiracy of Silence **

by Nomad   
Nov 2001

**Disclaimer: ** J.K. Rowling created and owns Hogwarts, Severus Snape, and almost everything else in this story - for which I will be forever jealous.   
**Author's Note**: The sequel to CoS: First Impressions.

**Second Sight**

The chaos of platform nine and three-quarters was incredible compared to the quiet of life with his uncle. However, Severus Snape was still glad to be going back to school - not that you'd have known it to look at him.

His mother's brother had reacted to his return with vague surprise, as if he'd already forgotten that he'd raised an orphaned nephew from the age of six. In truth, Sev had done much of the raising himself, and would rather have this amiable lack of interest than any amount of smothering enthusiasm. But after having the facilities of Hogwarts at his disposal, even his uncle's extensive library seemed too small to him. He was itching to get back to Professor Malachite's private book collection and read up on the Dark Arts.

Sev was exceptionally quick, and magically far in advance of his tender age of twelve. There was no disguising that he was bright, but the true extent of his brilliance he preferred to keep to himself.

Silently observing whilst drawing no attention was his trademark. It was a tactic that had come under some fire last year; definite lines were being drawn as disquieting changes swept over the wizarding world. If he stayed on the sidelines this time, he'd never learn anything until it was too late.

So right now, Severus Snape was very much in the thick of things. And that meant he had to be very, very careful what he said and did when there were witnesses.

Case in point; the pretty red-haired girl forging determinedly through the crowd towards him. Lily; the closest thing to a friend he'd made at Hogwarts. He had explained to her in great detail at the end of last year why he was going to have to avoid her from now on. And, since he knew her so well, he knew she wasn't about to take a blind bit of notice.

A crowded platform was hardly the place to have the kind of discussion she might want. He tried to vanish into the crowd, but she'd already seen him.

"Severus! Don't think you can avoid me," she warned darkly, catching him up. He shot her a very sharp look, and pointedly turned away.

"Hey!" she reached out and grabbed his arm to turn him back towards her.

At that point, a familiar drawling voice interrupted.

"Slumming with the animals, Severus?" Lucius Malfoy made a 'tsk, tsk' noise with his tongue and looked Lily up and down with a sneer. She was wearing her Muggle clothes, whereas Lucius was in dark robes despite the rules about not drawing attention at the station.

Lily matched him sneer for sneer. "I can see why you don't like animals, Malfoy. It must be so disturbing for you to be around anything warm-blooded." She gave him an evil smile and flounced off.

Malfoy, irked at being put down, turned to frown at Sev. "Talking to mudbloods now, Severus?" he asked, with a definite chill to his tone.

Sev mentally cursed Lily. What she didn't seem to realise was that just because Malfoy might be bigoted and cruel, that did _not_ mean he was unintelligent. Still, in deviousness he was no match for Snape.

"She seems to think I had something to do with Audley Fletcher taking his tumble last year," he lied smoothly, without a fraction's hesitation.

Malfoy smirked at the memory. "Ah, yes. Honestly, the nerve of some people - daring to think that _we_ would have anything to do with such a plot!" The grin that spread across his face rather belied his words. "After all," he added dryly, "nobody told us about it."

Sev gave his trademark thin smile, and filed that information away. Malfoy was amusing himself by being cruel, but he seemed serious enough all the same. He had dropped a few veiled hints about some action to be taken, and apparently Professor Fennel's attempt to murder a student hadn't been it.

Audley Fletcher, the son of an Auror, had been targeted by their Potions master in an attempt to get at his father. Fennel had failed, but Sev knew he hadn't been working on his own initiative. The Dementors had administered their deadly Kiss before he could be made to spill anything, so Sev was quite possibly the only one who knew the truth.

And Lily, of course. She had - pretty much accidentally - ended up his partner in investigation last time around. He wouldn't deny that her aid had been useful, but he couldn't afford to get near her this year. A Gryffindor, a 'mudblood' and a girl, she earned Malfoy's contempt threefold.

Of course, there were very few people he _wasn't_ contemptuous of. Even amongst the Slytherins in their year, of which he was the de facto leader, there were only three that he treated as any sort of equals; Sev himself, slimy Nicholas Avery, and the frankly disturbing Simon Lestrange. The beautiful but haughty Narcissa Salenica he treated like as a possession, and the others he seemed to regard as servants.

Aside from Malfoy's closest intimates and his personal thug, Colin Crabbe, Sev found most of the Slytherins no different from the rest of the students. Many of them were petty or mean, but that had as much to do with the schools' general opinion of Slytherins as anything else. Gryffindor house in particular was guilty of vilifying their long-time enemies; whenever it came to a confrontation, whatever the circumstances, Slytherin came off the villains.

One boy particularly undeserving of that title was Joshua Matthews. An extremely self-confident boy with a quick mind, he had all the Slytherin ambition without the usual arrogance. Sev remembered his Sorting as having taken a long time, and suspected his house selection had been a very close thing.

Josh was certainly uncomfortable with most of his fellow Slytherins. On the train journey, he selected a seat next to Severus. He had tried to establish some sort of friendship with Sev several times last year, despite the lack of any encouragement. He seemed to prefer Snape's quiet detachment to Malfoy's venomous outlook.

Today, he had a younger boy in tow who was practically his spitting image. Josh was a handsome, sandy-haired boy who could make even a robe look rumpled. He would, Sev had often observed, look quite at home in James Potter's little gang of loveable mischief-makers. Not that they would stoop to associating with Slytherins.

"Morning, Sev," he said with a hesitant smile. Sev nodded, but didn't smile back. The only emotions that ever showed on his face were ones he put there for a purpose.

Josh indicated the smaller boy beside him. "This is my little brother Lewis. He's starting at Hogwarts this year." Lewis's expression was flickering between nervous and excited, and he couldn't seem to stand still.

Lewis was round-eyed and excited at everything, from the trolley of snacks to their first glimpse of Hogwarts. Malfoy and company, professionally unimpressed, kept shooting him killer looks, but Josh ignored them. He was obviously fond of his brother, and, Sev guessed, very glad that this year he'd have someone in his house to talk to.

As they made their way into the Hogwarts grounds, the first years were herded away by Hagrid. Sev and his fellow second years made their way into the Great Hall to take their places at the house tables. Lily tried to catch his eye as they filed in, but he pointedly looked the other way.

The staff table was full of familiar faces. Dumbledore, of course, sat in the centre, flanked by his heads of house; Professors Malachite, Vitae and Parilia, with a space for the deputy head Professor Fractalis, who was dealing with the first years.

That wasn't the only empty space, however. For a moment Sev thought the position of Potions teacher had not been filled, but then he saw that a raven-haired woman sat in Fennel's old chair. A quick mental checklist told him it was Professor Cephus who was missing.

Auriga Cephus was a flighty young woman who taught astronomy. It was not unusual for her to forget where she had put her wand or the names of her students, but he wouldn't expect her to have missed the Sorting.

Josh leaned over, having noticed Sev's frown. "What's up?"

There was no harm in sharing an observation that anybody could have made. "Professor Cephus. She's not there."

"Oh." Josh pulled a face. "I hope she hasn't left; I always liked her."

"You would, Matthews," interjected Malfoy scathingly. "Trust you to like the only mudblood teacher in the school!"

Josh rolled his eyes, but didn't try to argue. His attention instead was focused on the Sorting ceremony just beginning.

A flustered Professor Fractalis got all the first years lined up and placed the Sorting hat on its stool. It looked even more battered than last year; not surprising, Sev supposed, when you considered it had been used at Hogwarts for the last thousand years.

A rip opened up in the brim of the hat, and it began its traditional Sorting song.

_The Hogwarts sorting hat am I,   
I speak as I shall find.   
I look inside your head and see   
Whatever's on your mind.   
I know you as you know yourself   
Or better; that's the truth.   
I always know where you should go   
My magic is the proof.   
If you are brave, and strong of thought,   
If you are slow to flee;   
If you can fight with all your might,   
A Gryffindor you'll be.   
If you are quick to think and choose,   
If wordplay is your art,   
In Ravenclaw your plans will find   
The perfect place to start.   
If you can work without a pause,   
If you are firm and true;   
If you can toil with your heart,   
A Hufflepuff are you.   
If you are fast to plot and plan,   
If thinking big feels right,   
House Slytherin is just the place   
To make your future bright   
So step right up and sit right down   
And learn who you shall be,   
And trust the Hogwarts sorting hat   
For no one baffles me!_

The room burst into applause, and Malfoy used the cover of it to lean over and say "A singing hat; I ask you, how childish is that? If _I_ was headmaster I would have done away with that foolishness years ago."

Josh was one of the few Slytherins to clap the song. His little brother gave him a shy wave from across the room.

"Andrews, Darren!" Fractalis called, and the first year boy nervously stepped up.

There seemed to be a surprising number of Slytherins this year; normally, the houses were very evenly balanced, but today their own seemed constantly ahead. Malfoy smiled triumphantly at every addition, and Colin greeted warmly one Graham Goyle. Apparently their families had been friends for decades, and Sev half-wondered if the association was closer than that. Goyle was like a miniature copy of Colin, with the same stocky build, closely cropped hair and dense expression.

"Matthews, Lewis!" Josh leaned forwards in his chair, watching eagerly. Malfoy made some sharp retort under his breath, and the boys around him all snickered.

Little Lewis stepped up and placed the hat on his head. For a long moment, all was silent. Seconds stretched into minutes, and Sev wondered if it was going to come to a decision at all... and then the hat spoke.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

The rest of the day passed in less dramatic fashion. Lewis looked somewhat lost over at the Gryffindor table, although his new companions were making an effort to draw him in. Sev was sure that whatever happened, he was going to have a better time of it than his brother.

Josh seemed vaguely numb with disbelief during the feast, and the other Slytherins were muttering darkly. Josh had never quite been 'one of the gang' last year, and apparently this was being taken as yet more 'proof' that he didn't belong.

Logically, of course, whatever house Lewis got put in had no bearing on where Josh should be. In fact it was, whilst not common, not particularly startling for siblings to end up in different houses. Explaining this to Malfoy would be worse than useless. Boys like Malfoy didn't want reasons to victimise people so much as excuses. Malfoy had already made up his mind not to like Josh, and any justification for this was filled in after the fact.

None of this infighting was incredibly important to Sev, so he ignored it in favour of more interesting things.

Dumbledore stood up to make his usual speech. "Welcome, one and all. Greetings to the new first years, and a warm welcome back to all our returning students." He cleared his throat and pulled on a sterner expression. "Now, as you know, after the... difficulty with Professor Fennel last year, the position of Potions master was left open, and none of you got to take your end of year exams." The student body tried to look distressed at this, and failed miserably.

"However, I'm pleased to tell you that the post has now been more than adequately filled." He raised a polite hand to the raven-haired woman whom Snape had noticed before. "Professor Ephemeria comes on the highest of recommendations from the Ministry of Magic, and I hope you'll be as respectful to her as you are to the rest of the staff." The slight twinkle in his eyes betrayed his knowledge of exactly how much 'respect' some of the staff received.

Professor Ephemeria gave an unexpectedly dazzling grin, that made her look little older than a seventh-year herself. The round of enthusiastic applause that followed was probably as much out of gladness to be rid of Fennel as it was for her.

Malfoy didn't clap, of course. He looked vaguely bored, and remarked "They should have kept Fennel. _I_ never had any problem with him."

Leading them back to their dorms, Professor Malachite caught Snape's eye. He gave him an inquisitive look, as if he was wondering if Sev was ever going to explain himself. Sev knew the teacher suspected he was up to something after he'd 'accidentally' fed Audley Fletcher a potion to make him vomit (entirely 'coincidentally' saving him from the poison Fennel had already slipped him). Sev wasn't sure how much of that story Malachite suspected, or why the teacher had allowed him free access to some very advanced books of magic. He returned his gaze with his usual unreadable look, and said nothing.

Professor Malachite was someone he would be watching closely this year. Of course, Sev watched everyone closely. The only difference was in how sure he was that he would find something.

As he lay in bed, reading over a few advanced texts whilst others slept, it occurred to him that Professor Cephus _had_ never turned up for the feast, and Dumbledore had said nothing about it. He added that to his list of things to investigate.

It was getting to be a very long list.


	2. Chapter Two

Their new timetable had the Slytherins and Gryffindors in Astronomy together late on the first day. Sev was - perhaps surprised was too strong a word - mildly intrigued to see that Professor Cephus had still not turned up. Instead, the class was 'graced' with the presence of Professor Alomancia.

Professor Alomancia taught Divination to the upper years, and was, like most Divination teachers, widely considered to be a mad old bat. Gazing into the future was a fairly difficult endeavour, and most people who indulged in it full time tended to become a little... altered.

Cracked she might be, but she was also amiable and none too strict. The dull old boredom of plotting stars was abandoned in favour of students pestering her about what their patterns predicted. Even a number of the Slytherins got involved, although of course not Malfoy's little cadre.

Sev wanted to hear the official line on Professor Cephus' absence, but it would have been out of 'character' for him to ask, and to his frustration nobody else bothered to. How was he supposed to gather information if everyone around him was too stupid to ask the most basic questions?

Finally, he decided he would have to hang back at the end of the class and just ask himself. Professor Alomancia was hardly likely to have any contact with anyone who would care Sev was asking about a teacher, and she was nutty enough that he could deny everything.

So, right at the end of the lesson, he conveniently knocked over his astrolabe. The Gryffindors all laughed, naturally, causing Malfoy to snarl and shoot a minor curse their way. It reflected off one of the telescopes, and everybody grabbed their stuff and ran for the door.

Sadly, though, Sev was not left alone to pick up his scattered equipment. Lily had also decided to hang behind. This wouldn't be so bad, except for the fact that since their adventure at the end of last year, she and James appeared to have become magnetically attached.

"Professor, I just wanted to ask about Divination next year-"

"Ah, Lily, isn't it?" The Professor smiled at her cheerfully.

"I was just wondering if you could recommend some books? I wanted to get some reading done in advance."

How like Lily, Sev reflected, staying unobtrusively crouched under his desk. How like him, really. He personally had little interest in Divination, but he was still as well-read as any seventh-year on the subject.

"Don't worry my dear," said Professor Alomanicia fondly. "I foresee a great future for you in Divination. I-"

She broke off abruptly, and Sev looked up from under the desk to see her face abruptly slacken. James, lurking by the door, ran back inside. "Professor? Are you-?"

She began to speak, in a cold voice wholly unlike the friendly tones she had just employed. "_Choose wisely and well, for your doom will come too quickly. Love will not save you, but that which is most precious will survive. Beware; you think you see him, but the colours he wears are not his, and the face you know now is not the true one. He will betray you!_"

Lily and James stood frozen, almost afraid to breathe. After a moment, Professor Alomancia blinked, and shook her head as if to clear it. "I'm sorry... did I drift off for a moment? It's these astral tides, you know. I'm terribly unfocused. What was it you wanted, dear?"

"Uh... never mind," decided Lily. She grabbed James by the arm and started to drag him off. As she hustled him out, her eyes briefly met Sev's, and there was a strange look in them.

Sev knew what she was thinking. _...the colours he wears are not his..._ More than once last year, she had said to Sev that he was in the wrong house; that he wasn't really what the Gryffindors considered a 'true' Slytherin. She'd even made a comment about green not being his colour.

Professor Alomancia's words had the ring of a true prophecy about them. If that was true, was he destined to betray Lily and James in some way?

Anybody else might have shrugged such an idea off with a quick 'I would never do that'. Sev considered the prophecy more dispassionately. He knew that he had no intention of causing harm to Lily, and though he liked James less well, not him either. However, there were many kinds of betrayal, and should he find the need to practise one of them to further his campaign to get in with Malfoy... well, that was not too much of a stretch.

However, Sev was at heart a creature of logic. The prophecy was strongly-worded, but still vague. He had no doubt at all that he would come to unravel its meaning - just as soon as the events it predicted were over. Such was the nature of Divination.

Nonetheless, it was another nugget of information to squirrel away, and there could never be too many of those. Sadly, this one was bought with the loss of another. He never did get that opportunity to ask about Professor Cephus.

* * *

That evening, Malfoy launched the first phase of 'Operation Get Josh Matthews'.

Perhaps the operation wasn't named, but it was still planned with military precision. Malfoy was smart enough to know that division in the Slytherin ranks could only reduce his reputation. He was currently the commander of his own private little army in a kind of 'us against the world' scenario. Let the other houses know that not all his 'followers' were truly his, and suddenly his power fragmented and he was just another bully.

In classes, Josh was never in any way bullied, or even spoken harshly to. Malfoy never dissed his gang in public, however he might snap and snarl at them in private. Josh's isolation was not noticeable to the outside world; there were other Slytherins who weren't really Malfoy's creatures, and they would sit with him or share study notes. You wouldn't know that they weren't really what you could call 'friends' until you saw the way they quickly peeled away from him as soon as they hit Malfoy's home territory.

It started small; but in a shared dorm where nobody was your friend, small could be unbearable. Josh's socks would disappear a few minutes before it was time to go to lessons. His underwear would be magicked pink, or his bed would be enchanted to throw him off in the middle of the night. The ink he wrote his homework in would fade into nothing after he'd finished writing, and the pages of his textbooks would be blanked.

Josh bore all this with stoic silence. He wasn't stupid enough to try and report it to the teachers; all that would bring would be a few warnings and maybe some deducted points, and then the bullying would just become more fiendishly subtle. Nor could he make himself some new friends; the houses were fairly insular at the best of times, and though some friendships crossed boundaries, Slytherin had always stood alone.

Josh's only link to the rest of his world was his little brother, and that was a fairly tenuous one. They couldn't sit together at meals, because of the house tables, and they couldn't enter each other's common rooms. Josh took to spending all his spare time in the library, and Lewis would meet him there - but not too frequently. Lewis was a bouncy, active boy who had quickly been accepted by the Gryffindors, and he didn't want to be stuck in the library at all hours.

So Josh was alone. And unlike Sev's self-imposed solitude, it obviously pained him to be that way.

Sev, with his sharp skills of observation, missed nothing. He also did nothing. Befriending people was not his style in any case, and he could only harm his own position with Malfoy without helping Josh's. Josh would have to deal with it on his own terms.

Meanwhile, Sev was busy trying to ascertain what had happened to Professor Cephus. A few usefully overheard conversations - his invisibility cloak, he had found, was a very handy thing around the staff - let him know that he wasn't the only one in the dark. Most of the staff seemed to think she'd just got bored teaching and done a runner; many of them added half-serious wishes that they could do the same thing. Dumbledore was the only one who seemed truly concerned.

"It's just not like her, Carnus," he observed to Professor Malachite. Malachite was the one with whom the headmaster talked most about his worries. Though Professor Fractalis was the deputy head, in many ways Malachite was more senior. He had been with the Ministry of Magic for a decade before taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts appointment, and he cut a far more impressive figure than poor nervous Fractalis. No one was sure why he hadn't been made deputy instead, although there was a rumour going around that he'd been asked and refused the position.

Whatever the reason, he still had Dumbledore's ear in many things, and provided a sounding board for ideas the headmaster didn't like to share with the more excitable members of his staff.

"Auriga would never just wander off like this," said the headmaster worriedly. "Yes, she was absentminded, but you know she always had a keen sense of duty. Leave Hogwarts, without so much as giving notice? Preposterous."

"You think something may have happened to her?" asked Malachite with a frown.

"In these dark days? Almost certainly." The stormy look on Dumbledore's face was a strong contrast to the twinkly-eyed persona he usually presented.

"Now, Albus," his fellow teacher calmed him, "not every disappearance marks a plot. Something may have happened to her, but that doesn't mean it's something somebody else has done to her. Even wizards and witches have accidents, you know."

Dumbledore's frown failed to clear. "True, true... but there have been entirely too many disappearances for my liking, lately. People from the Ministry..." He shook off his dark mood with a visible effort. "Still, surely not Auriga Cephus, hmm? I can't quite see her being a danger to anybody."

"Quite," agreed Malachite with a nod. "What about her classes?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I'm not keen to appoint a replacement just yet," the headmaster admitted. "It seems a little too... final for my tastes. For the next month or so, at least, I'd like to keep using substitutes. Fortunately, Astronomy is a subject most of our staff are qualified to teach."

"Did you hear about Hepatosa?" asked Malachite.

"Had another vision in the middle of a class?" Dumbledore agreed, with a pensive frown.

"Well, at the end of one, fortunately." Malachite shook his head. "Lord knows that would have caused a panic. We're lucky she spouted off in front of a sensible pair like James and Lily."

"I'm not sure if 'lucky' is quite the right word," chided Dumbledore gently. "Apparently she warned them both that somebody they knew was going to betray them."

"Really? How charmingly vague of her," said Malachite snidely. "I don't suppose she saw fit to furnish them with a name, or even a time?"

"No; although I think Lily has a suspicion about who it might be. Not that she saw fit to share it, of course. A very independent girl, that Lily," he said fondly.

"Hmm. How's James taking it?"

"Lightly, as I could have predicted." Dumbledore shook his head. "I fear for those boys, Carnus. James Potter and Sirius Black still think they're invincible. I only pray they don't have to find out the hard way that they're wrong."

"My, we're gloomy today," Malachite observed, and Dumbledore nodded wryly.

"Yes, I'm hardly the font of cheerfulness, am I? Still, this with Auriga, coming on top of what happened last year... I rather hoped Hogwarts had left this kind of darkness behind thirty years ago."

"What happened thirty years ago?" asked the younger man with a frown.

"Things which should never have been allowed to." The headmaster shook his head darkly. "I sometimes feel as if the world has never been the same since then. That was _my_ rude awakening," he said, almost to himself. "I thought I could see the darkness in everybody... I was wrong."

"You're only human, Albus," Malachite supplied comfortingly. Dumbledore smiled, and his dark mood was abruptly broken.

"Yes. Let's just hope the students never find out, hmm?" They smiled, and went their separate ways, leaving Snape to sneak back to his dorm with more questions than answers.

A quick check of Hogwarts histories confirmed what he had already been pretty sure of; there was no mention of _anything_ out of the ordinary happening at Hogwarts three decades ago. In fact, the books were suspiciously quiet on those years altogether.

Books were not the only sources, however. Being Sev, he thought to go down to the trophy room and check for anything unusual awarded in that time period. The only thing he found was an Award For Special Services to the School, made out to one Tom Riddle. However, given that Riddle was also on the roll of Head Boys and had received a Medal For Magical Merit as well, it could have been for purely academic reasons.

The only teacher who had been around to give a personal account of those years was Dumbledore, and Sev wasn't foolish enough to try and pry information out of him. Sev avoided the headmaster as much as possible, recognising a kindred spirit when it came to seeing through people. He was smart enough to recognise his own limitations, and Dumbledore wasn't somebody he was prepared to try and outwit. He might be able to cross mental swords fairly successfully, but not without giving too much of his private self away.

Coming to dead ends in all his research avenues, Sev fell back instead on the old standby of people-watching. However, right now that was little more rewarding. He had hoped to get Malfoy to open up more about this 'new order' he had hinted was coming, but the other boy was entirely too occupied making Joshua's life a misery.

Malfoy was the kind of bully who wasn't happy unless he could hear the cries of pain. It didn't matter that Josh was surely suffering - he was doing it silently, and that didn't suit Lucius Malfoy _at all_. The cruel 'practical jokes' continued, but Malfoy also opened up another avenue of approach.

Namely, Lewis Matthews.

The impressionable new first year Slytherins had quickly fallen under Malfoy's charismatic spell. Two of his most zealous followers were Colin's friend Goyle, and a thoroughly nasty piece of work called Alexander Nott.

Malfoy gave these two junior thugs a new mission in life. As miserable as Josh was being made, it was to be nothing on how Lewis should be feeling.

Nott and Goyle had a great deal more freedom than Malfoy in this regard. _They_ didn't have to put up two different faces in public and private. No, they could haunt Lewis's footsteps any time they wanted, and launch attacks at every opportunity.

Goyle was a simple thug, but Nott had that kind of flair for deviousness truly unpleasant schoolboys learn to use. He was the kind who could be twisting arms one minute, and angelically presenting a piece of perfect homework the next. None of the teachers saw through his mask any better than they did Malfoy's, and his pursuit of Lewis was practically unchallenged.

Lewis, on the occasions Sev happened to pass him in the corridors, was developing a truly haunted expression. He took the bullying far worse than his older brother, despite the fact that he had friends to back him up. He clung to Josh whenever he could, but his big brother couldn't be there when lessons started.

Things were escalating dangerously, and Sev knew Josh cared about his brother too much to let it slide the way he had when it was him alone. He would have to seek help from somewhere. Unfortunately, he chose to do so from the one place Snape really would have preferred him not to.

"Sev, can I talk to you a moment?" Josh asked, one day when they happened to have the library to themselves. Snape didn't answer, but the sandy-haired boy continued anyway. "Listen, I- I know this is nothing to do with you, but I really need your help. There's no one else I can ask. You gotta help me."

Sev, as much as he felt anything, felt sympathy for Josh. He was no fan of Lucius Malfoy, and Josh was by nature quiet and thoughtful - traits he could identify with.

He had no wish to see Josh and Lewis suffer more - but he couldn't help, either. He had got through thus far by being deliberately disinterested, neither joining nor attempting to stop the others' bullying. But now, Josh had tipped his hand, and he was going have to come down on one side or the other.

Should he help Josh and betray his true loyalties, or go even further in his quest to gain Malfoy's trust?


	3. Chapter Three

"It's- it's Lewis," Josh began a little unsteadily. "My brother."

"I know who Lewis is," Sev pointed out expressionlessly.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course you do. I mean-" Josh shook his head. "It was okay, before. Well, it wasn't okay, you know, but I could live with it, when it was just me. But Lewis... Hell, he's just a kid."

It occurred to Sev that the gap between eleven and twelve wasn't really enough to call anybody 'just a kid', but he didn't point that out to Josh.

"What makes you think I can help you?" he asked bluntly. Why play around with verbal dances? Josh would get to his point regardless.

Josh seemed momentarily taken back, but rallied quickly. "I- I've seen you with the others. You're not an outcast, not like me... but you're not exactly one of them, either, are you?"

Sev blinked slowly, and chose not to comment on that. "And you think I'd help?"

"_Somebody's_ got to," said Josh, with mounting desperation.

"What could I possibly do?" he asked; not accusing or bitter, just his customary neutral. Giving nothing of his emotions away whatsoever. Together with his naturally soft voice, it unsettled staff and students twice as much as the deliberately vitriolic tone he used in baiting James and Sirius. Josh, however, was too distressed to really care.

He let out an explosive sigh and slumped down next to Sev. "I don't know, I don't _know_," he said bitterly. "Can't you do _something_? Malfoy listens to you. You could say something-"

"Yes. And then not only would he continue doing what he's doing, he'd also stop listening to me."

"So you won't even try?"

"It won't help."

"You know, sometimes that's really not the point," snapped Josh. In that instant, Sev thought he sounded very like Lily. She wouldn't approve of this at all. But then, she didn't see the world through the coolly logical filter he did.

"That's always the point. It won't make things better for you. It won't make things better for Lewis. It will make things worse for me. That's not help."

Josh shook his head in disbelief. "Are you _alive_ in there? Is there blood running through your veins, or are you just powered by clockwork? Do you _have_ feelings?"

"When you let feelings overtake logic, you're in trouble," Sev said coolly.

Josh blinked at him for a moment, then shook his head and turned away. "You know, I think you got that backwards," he snapped, storming out of the library.

Sev watched him disappear down the corridor for a moment, then went back to his Dark Arts essay.

* * *

A few days later, when Lily was making one of her regular attempts to corner him, he let her catch him.

They were down in the Potions lab in the dungeons; a fairly quiet part of the school at the best of times. Sev was very familiar with the place owing to the secret midnight Potions lessons he'd been giving Lily last year. Those had stopped, of course, but Professor Ephemeria was a much more patient tutor than Fennel, and Lily was no longer struggling.

Professor Ephemeria had pulled off the difficult trick of earning the undying love of students of all houses. This, she had achieved by allowing people to leave class a few minutes early if they finished quickly. Sev tried as a matter of habit not to be first to finish, but he was usually second or third.

This particular day, they happened to be making Cheering Charms. Lily's natural knack for Charm work cancelled her difficulty with Potions, and as Severus excused himself and left early, she was right on his tail.

"Severus Snape! You just _try_ and run away from me, and I swear I'll hit you with the Full-Body Bind," she threatened from down the corridor.

Shooting her a disdainful look, he leaned against the dungeon wall and waited for her to catch up.

Somewhat surprised, Lily skittered to a halt and frowned at him. "Okay - what do you want?" she demanded.

Sev raised an expressive eyebrow. "What do _I_ want? Who just chased who down the corridor?"

"Yeah, but you let me catch you," she said quizzically. He smiled internally. Surprisingly little got past Lily.

"I was floored by the force of your magnetic personality," he said perfectly dryly.

"Heh. Good for you. Why did you let me catch you?" she demanded.

Sev shot her a look, allowing his eyes to flickered pointedly back to the classroom whose occupants would be spilling out at any moment. "What did you want, Lily?"

He could see that the idea of her attempts to corner him succeeding hadn't really occurred to her. "Um... the usual?" she tried. "Explanation? Apology? Admission that I was right and you were wrong? A little bowing down and kissing of feet would probably not go amiss, either."

"You already know why I'm doing what I'm doing," he said, with half a shrug.

"And you already know that I think you're wrong."

"Yes, well. You're not alone in that," he remarked. In anybody else, that might have been considered a brief aside, half to himself - but Sev never said _anything_ without thinking about it.

"What does that mean?" Lily seized on his words quickly. Maybe her time apart from him had been long enough for her to forget quite how calculated his conversation was, or maybe it just went against her open nature to believe it. Either way, it didn't seem to occur to her that he was quite casually steering the conversation the way he wanted it to go.

"Exactly what it says. You're not the only one who seems to disagree with my tactics. This, of course, having a great impact on my attitude," he added dryly.

"Who else knows?" Lily asked with a frown.

"Nobody knows," Sev told her. "Not even you." Lily might have the greatest insight of anybody into the workings of his brain, but not even she knew the whole story. Severus Snape's private thoughts were nobody's but his own. "But other people have noticed that I'm not as fully committed to death and destruction as the rest of Malfoy's friends. Joshua Matthews seems to have picked up the idea that I might be able to help with his problem."

"Josh..." Unlike her friends James and Sirius, Lily _could_ put a name to those Slytherins who weren't actively hostile, though it took her a moment. Once the name was matched with a face, she frowned. "What problem?"

Sev clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Ah, Lily, Lily. You Gryffindors really don't see much outside your own house, do you?"

"Well, I could say worse things about the Slytherins, but you've heard them already," she snapped back, riled.

"Yes. You do so love to tar us with Malfoy's brush, don't you? Josh Matthews is the same as Lucius Malfoy, yes? Just like Peter Pettigrew is the same as James Potter."

"Hey! Leave Peter alone," she frowned. "So what if he's not school hero? I like him."

"No you don't, you feel sorry for him," he corrected her. "You 'nice' people have trouble telling the difference sometimes."

Lily should know his talents by now, but the fact that she knew he was pushing her buttons didn't make it unsuccessful. "If you're getting near a point, make it," she suggested icily.

"If you could possibly see beyond your narrow definitions of Gryffindor and Slytherin, you might notice that Joshua Matthews has very few of those qualities you so despise in us. Malfoy certainly has."

She chewed at her lower lip. "Malfoy picks on him? I've never seen him do it."

"And you never will. What is this obsession you have with 'us' and 'them'? Is it something to do with these Muggle movies you're all so caught up in? Why do you automatically assume that because Lucius is cruel, he must be stupid?"

"Because how could anybody who acts like that not be?" she tossed back at him angrily. "Okay, he might be cunning-"

"Ah, cunning," nodded Snape dryly. "A good word that. I think you'll find it means 'just as smart as one of us, but if we use a different word we can pretend it's not the same'."

Lily made a face. "So you're saying Malfoy's bullying Josh? And he came to you?" She arched her eyebrows disbelievingly. "Must've been pretty desperate."

"Oh, he is," Sev told her coolly. "Of course, it's not about him anymore. He does have a little brother, after all. And _he's_ one of yours. But I don't suppose you high and mighty Gryffindors have noticed him, either?" He smiled thinly, as the rest of the class started to pour out, and joined the crowd as it flowed away.

* * *

Whether Lily ever knew their conversation had an ulterior motive, he could only guess. Perhaps she thought he was just taunting her with how much he saw and she didn't. Perhaps she thought it had been a clever way to deflect her attention. Perhaps she had wondered if he might be looking out for Josh, and then dismissed it as too illogical for him.

Sev was not in the slightest bit interested. As he had explained to the unhappy Josh, it was only results that mattered - not how things looked to others.

The results were not immediately apparent. Josh was still deeply miserable. Malfoy was still vindictive. Lewis was still looking haunted.

Then, one time, Nott and Goyle had leapt out on Lewis only to find James Potter happened to be walking with him. A few days later, a sneak attack had been foiled by Sirius Black. The corridors around Lewis Matthews had started mysteriously sprouting second-year Gryffindors whenever his enemies were near.

Malfoy would ordinarily have been quick to notice this, but he had other things on his mind. Rather like ninety-nine percent of the other Hogwarts students.

The time for Quidditch tryouts had come around again; and this time, they were all old enough to enter.

First years were not prohibited from trying out, exactly, but none had been on a house team for decades. The current flying teacher, Jagred Swift, had coached professionally, and the teams he turned out were so good no novice flyer would dare to try and get in.

All the houses except Ravenclaw had lost their captains when the seventh years had left. All of them had at least two places to fill, and there was certainly no shortage of applicants.

"Aiming for the team, Sev?" Malfoy asked him one day in the common room.

Severus was, as it happened, an excellent flyer, and with his quick thinking and ability to keep track of things, he'd probably make a great Keeper. However, being on the Quidditch pitch didn't quite fit in with his desire to remain low-profile.

He gave another of his thin smiles. "I prefer to get my enjoyment of the game... off the pitch."

Malfoy snickered appreciatively, no doubt remembering Audley Fletcher's near-deadly drop from his broomstick last year. It had actually been Fennel who had put the curse on him, and Sev's sick-making potion had saved his life, but he and Lily were the only ones who knew that. However, if Malfoy chose to believe Sev got his kicks from sabotaging players, that suited him just fine.

Malfoy, of course, was talking as if he'd already been appointed captain. His parents had bought him the very latest in brooms, a Cleansweep 2. Most of the actual team players only had Silver Arrows.

There was one other Cleansweep 2 in the school, and that belonged to one of Malfoy's arch-enemies - Sirius Black. Black, not exactly hard up for cash, had gone out and bought himself one over the summer; no doubt in response to seeing Malfoy on his.

Malfoy, of course, was deeply disparaging about Black's flagrant copying. And truth to tell, on evenly matched brooms he was probably the better flyer. Sirius wasn't bad, but he was heavy-handed, and he placed too much emphasis on speed. Malfoy was truly skilled, and in most years he would have been the best with no contest.

Most years, of course, did not contain James Potter.

James only rode the old-model Cleansweep, a generation behind Black's and Malfoy's. Sev didn't have to have been privy to their private conversations to know that Sirius had offered to buy him a better broom, and James had acted proud and refused. Study people closely enough, and it was easy to predict how they would act in any given situation.

You didn't have to be Sev's level of genius to predict what Quidditch tryouts did to the atmosphere in the classroom. The teachers, all ex-Hogwarts themselves and closely tied to their old houses, were near as excited as the students, and lessons were chaotic and loud.

Astronomy was particularly explosive. The lack of a regular teacher, plus the usual bad mistake of Gryffindor and Slytherin in the same room, had competitiveness written all over it. If only because more accurate terms for the atmosphere would probably be unprintable.

It was the latest boast from the Gryffindor tables, however, that had Malfoy and his cronies howling with laughter.

"You?" he demanded disbelievingly. "You, on a _Quidditch_ team? Oh, you're killing me."

"I wish," said Lily icily. She placed her hands on her hips. "Mind telling me why, exactly?"

"I really have to spell it out for you, honey?" Malfoy wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. "Oh, you're so delusional!" He cackled gleefully.

"Girls can't play Quidditch?" asked Lily dangerously.

If Sev was Malfoy, he would have been backing away at speed right then. But Malfoy's view of the universe, of course, wouldn't let him accept that Lily could be a threat.

"One, girls can't play Quidditch," he agreed smarmily. "Two, you call that a broom? It's a stick with bristles!" Sev had to admit, Malfoy had a fair point. Lily's parents had refused point blank to spring for any magical gear that wasn't mandatory, and she'd been forced to pick up a second-hand Comet. It was at least five years old, and she had to struggle mightily to make it go in a straight line.

"Third," said Malfoy, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, "you're a mudblood. And unless you zap them with a levitation curse, Muggles can't fly."

That was roughly the point when the air exploded with so many hexes half the class ended up in the infirmary.

Quidditch tryouts took place the following weekend. Despite Malfoy's often and loudly expressed disbelief, Lily did turn up and she _did_ fly. Her broom was misbehaving, but she wrestled with it masterfully, and won herself a place on the reserves. Nobody was laughing, because it was rare for a second year to do better than that, and she was the first girl to get anywhere _near_ a place on a Quidditch team. Reserves seldom got any chance to play at school level - not when you had magical healing on demand - but it near guaranteed her a place in the squad the following year.

Sirius Black flew with frenetic enthusiasm, and won himself a place as a Beater. It was a position he was well suited to, zooming about the place thwacking Bludgers with a club. When it came to Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, Sev suspected there were going to be a lot of Slytherin heads getting 'mistaken' for Bludgers.

Malfoy was heard to remark snarkily that they'd only put him on the team because he had a good broom.

"Oh, is that why you bought yours?" Lily asked in passing. She gave him a sweetly triumphant smile that reduced him to a quivering rage.

Reigning in his fury, Malfoy flew quite excellently, and when he was awarded a place as a Chaser there were more than just Slytherins applauding. Though there were three Chasers on the team, it was a skilled position, and one that usually went to at least third or fourth years.

Malfoy was well pleased with that, opining that even if Potter got in, he'd still have won. "I got there first. Even if they pity him enough to pick him, I got there first."

James Potter, however, wasn't content to merely get in. He put on a blinding display of aerial acrobatics - juggling Quaffles, flying with one hand, flying upside down... When he finally touched down, he received a standing ovation from everybody but Malfoy's cadre of Slytherins. Josh and several of Malfoy's other non-supporters practically had to sit on their hands to stop themselves from joining in.

The applause redoubled when James' new position was announced... that of Seeker, the most coveted spot in the game. Almost no one made it to Seeker without at least a year in another position under their belt.

Malfoy led the Slytherins back to their common room spitting and snarling. "Bloody tryouts are a bloody joke! Mudbloods and morons. And that show-off Potter - that's not _flying_, that's bloody circus tricks. As if _juggling_ proves you'd be any good at catching the Snitch! It's a setup."

He snapped the password at the guardian statue so sharply that it practically leapt out of the way, a nervous look in its stony eyes. Malfoy threw his very expensive broomstick to the floor with a thud. "How much d'you reckon Black _paid_ to get him and his friends on the team, huh?" he snarled. "_I_ wouldn't take him for a thousand Galleons!"

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy!" burst out Josh angrily. There was a sudden dead silence.

"Got a problem, friend?" said Malfoy icily, turning towards him and moving straight up into his personal space. Everybody else got out of the way, rapidly. When Malfoy was snapping and snarling, you cringed and looked obedient if you wanted to survive. When he called you 'friend' and gave that certain dead-eyed smile, you didn't stop to pack.

Josh, however, had been simmering too long, and he'd passed the point of no return. "Grow up, Malfoy! Nobody cheated, and nobody fixed anything. _You just lost._ You just lost, and you know why? Because they're _better_ than you."

Aside from Josh, who was going red and panting with long-suppressed anger, nobody in the room seemed to be breathing. The assembled Slytherins were all holding their breath, and Malfoy had gone perfectly, perfectly still.

"Better?" he asked very quietly. Sev recognised the tone; it was a variation on his own best cold voice. Except he used it when he was trying to psyche people out of picking a fight... and that wasn't what Malfoy was using it for.

"Yeah, better," snarled Josh, arrogant in the face of the inevitable. "_Way_ better."

"You like James Potter, hmm? I suppose you'd rather be with him. Rather be with your Gryffindor friends, yes?"

"Well, I don't see how they could be any worse than you," sneered Josh darkly.

The two of them stood framed there for a moment. Malfoy was a good half-head shorter, but something in the way he stood made that seem very unimportant. The time stretched out longer and longer... and then Malfoy suddenly pulled away to regard his audience. The deceptively gentle smile on his face was such that several of them took a step backwards.

"It seems we have a traitor among us," he observed lightly. He pulled an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. "Now, what do we do with traitors?" he asked rhetorically, tapping his chin. "Ah, yes." He turned back to Josh. "I do believe we make an example of them."

His smile widened, until it looked something like a tiger's.


	4. Chapter Four

With a sudden movement that made most of the watchers flinch, Malfoy produced his wand. Josh stared him down stonily.

"Oh, please," he retorted. "What are you gonna-"

Malfoy cut him off with a single barked word. "_Crucio!_"

Unlike most of the curses and hexes the students casually threw at each other, there was no flare of light or other flashy effects. Josh didn't sprout feathers or tentacles or suddenly transform. He just started to scream.

His hands were clamped to the sides of his head, face contorted in a helpless mask of pain. The scream was the most blood-chilling sound Sev had ever heard, a completely involuntary ululation of absolute agony.

Josh doubled over, still screaming, and then Malfoy flicked the wand away, ending the curse. He let out a rattling gasp, and managed to half-straighten up. Tears glistened in his eyes, not of fear or rage but simply squeezed out by the force of the pain.

Josh breathed raggedly, and pushed himself up to stand straight. He looked Malfoy in the eye, and forced out the words "You... don't... impress... me."

"_Crucio!_" Sev was perhaps the only one there who didn't wince, and that was only because his face was carefully schooled to betray nothing of what was going on beneath.

Josh fell to his knees, screaming again. His voice had cracked and gone hoarse with the strain he'd put onto it, yet he didn't stop. He fell to the floor, writhing as if there were something inside of him trying to escape. Sweat was literally flowing from him, pouring down his tortured face. And still Malfoy didn't stop the curse.

Avery and Simon Lestrange were watching with a horribly eager light in their eyes, as if this was the most fascinating thing they'd ever seen. Everybody else in the room, even the thuggish Colin Crabbe, had looked away, unable to stand a moment longer. Jack Brisingamen had his hands jammed over his ears, although Sev doubted that it could be doing anything to block out that unearthly howl.

Sev didn't look away. Every moment of this scene was burning into his flawless memory, probably forever.

Josh's liquid brown eyes briefly met his. The state he was in, they had to be unseeing, but even so the mute plea in them was unmistakable.

Sev couldn't meet those eyes, but he couldn't look away. He started counting inside his head, doubling numbers and doubling them until they were big enough to fill his head and blank out any other kind of thought.

_Two. Four. Eight. Sixteen. Thirty-two. Sixty-four. One twenty-eight. Two fifty-six. Five hundred and twelve. Ten twenty-four. Twenty forty-eight. Forty ninety-six. Eighty-one ninety-two..._

The numbers grew bigger, taking up his more and more of his thoughts until he had to think about the math, blocking everything out, not seeing or thinking or feeling...

Finally, Malfoy stopped. The silence that followed was like death.

Josh was locked up in a mute ball on the floor. Gradually his body untensed, but he made no attempt to get up or even move. Malfoy stood looking down at him with a satisfied expression for a moment, then aimed a final vindictive kick at the curled up boy and strode out of the common room.

Nick, Simon and Colin quickly followed. The rest of the Slytherin boys hovered uneasily; none of them wanting to just leave, none of them wanting to be the one to approach Josh where he lay, possibly mortally injured.

Sev couldn't do anything at all whilst they were still there. Face as impassive as ever, he stepped around Josh on the floor and headed for the door.

* * *

Sev headed straight over to Professor Malachite's office. He knew exactly what he'd witnessed: the Cruciatus curse.

Many of the more advanced Dark Arts books made reference to the three Unforgivable Curses. One was Cruciatus, another was Imperius... the third was never named, but it brought only instant death.

The books spoke of the three curses; the dark days of their discoveries, what they did, how they had come to be unilaterally banned. But one thing even the very darkest tomes did not do - and that was tell you the words of command that brought them about.

From somewhere, Lucius Malfoy had learned to use one of the three most powerful, most deadly curses known to wizardry - and it definitely hadn't been from school.

Malachite's books had surprisingly little to say on the exact effects of the Cruciatus curse. All they said was that it brought pain, and that some of its victims never recovered. Sev was sure that however nasty it had seemed, Malfoy at nearly thirteen couldn't have half enough power to make it that bad.

Now _that_ was a thought that he didn't have any logical basis for. But some things, you had to just let yourself believe.

He headed down to the Potions dungeons. If Professor Ephemeria had been there, he would have had to think on his feet; he didn't have his invisibility cloak with him, and he wasn't about to go back and get it. However, the teacher wasn't there. She was probably up with the rest of the staff, still congratulating the new Quidditch players on their appointments.

It seemed odd to think that barely ten minutes had passed; that it was still a sunny Saturday afternoon up there, and people were still playing. Sev gave a humourless snort at his own sense of drama: what had he expected, a sudden dark and stormy night?

Sev raided the Professor's cupboard for ingredients, but even his great talent for Potions was drawing something of a blank here. None of the books had given him any guidance as to what he would need here, because none of the books even entertained the crazy idea that you might be trying to avoid calling in a trained healer.

In the end, he trusted to his own skill, mixing ingredients he knew had healing and soothing properties. He worked as much through instinct as through knowledge, judging quantities and mixtures by what seemed to feel right. He heated the mix in his cauldron until its colour seemed to settle, and risked a small dab on his tongue. A numbness quickly suffused it, and he felt momentarily light-headed. He took a deep breath to clear his head, and poured the potion into a vial.

It was the first potion he had ever made up without adhering to a strictly drawn-up recipe. The school had very strict rules about that kind of experimentation. Magical ingredients could react extremely unpredictably, and even very experienced research wizards could be caught by surprise. But Sev's faith in his own intelligence was such that he'd never entertained the possibility he might do something wrong.

Slipping the vial into an inner pocket, he made his way back up to the Slytherin common room. Something in him was telling him he should be running, but he ignored it. He'd been brewing potions for an hour; any sense of urgency now was only in his own mind.

Josh had gone from his place on the floor when Sev returned. The common room was empty, but for Jack Brisingamen and Stuart Flint. They were playing a purely mechanical game of Exploding Snap, and when he came in they glanced at him and then quickly looked away, not meeting his eyes. There was an aura of shared guilt so thick it flavoured the air.

Sev passed through into his dorm room, and saw that it was empty; Malfoy and his lieutenants had not returned. He pushed the door lightly, so that it stood half closed, shielding the room from prying eyes but not clicking shut.

He quickly crossed over to his own bed, and fetched out the invisibility cloak. Smoothly sliding into it, he walked straight back out again. There was no telling how long the rooms would stay this deserted... although he suspected that most of the Slytherins would find good excuses to stay away as long as possible.

Moving in perfect silence was a habit he'd picked up living with his uncle, sneaking about in library stacks he probably wasn't supposed to be in. Since he'd acquired the invisibility cloak at the end of last year, it had become second nature to him.

He glided unnoticed past the two quiet boys, and into the other dorm room. There were two second year rooms, each with five beds in. As he had rather suspected, this one was empty except for Josh.

The sandy-haired boy was lying awkwardly on his back; the way you might lie if you'd taken a tumble from a broomstick and had bruises all over. He was not sleeping, but simply staring at the ceiling.

Sev half-considered staying under the cloak and keeping his anonymity, but it was just wishful thinking. There was no way to do this without blowing his cover. Josh would have to be a pretty big fool indeed to take an unknown potion after what had happened an hour ago.

Sev went to stand beside him, and whipped off the cloak with a quick motion. He had a hand ready to stifle any outcry, but Josh just stared at him apathetically.

"What do you want?" he croaked, painfully but with a flash of dull insolence.

"Drink this," Sev advised simply, tilting the potion to his lips. Josh looked for a moment like he might want to refuse, but the lure of some release from the aches that covered his body must have been too much. He gulped greedily at the cure until Sev pulled it away from him.

He slipped the remaining potion into the top drawer by Josh's bed. "I'll leave the rest. Don't drink it now; I'm not sure how strong it is."

Josh's eyes followed his movements, but he didn't say anything. Not having expected any wild thanks, Sev simply picked up the cloak and turned towards the door.

"Thanks for coming by," said Josh, in a voice that was both stronger and thick with sarcasm. He licked his lips painfully, and added bitterly "You're a real hero."

Sev crossed back over to stand above him. He answered Josh not out of an urge to be understood, but just because he somehow felt that he owed him an explanation.

"Any halfwit can be a hero," he said quietly. "Go to the Gryffindors, if you want dumb courage. They might be able to leap up and brawl with Malfoy, but none of them could ever do what I do."

"And what do you do?" asked Josh sharply.

"Watch," he said, with a flicker of a shrug. "From the inside."

"Yeah?" he asked bitterly. "See anything interesting?"

"I won't, until he lets me in. And if I want him to do that... I have to do what I do."

"Oh, I see what you're doing," Josh remarked quietly. "And I see what it's doing to you. How long can you survive, Severus? How long before you forget _why_ you do what you do?"

"As long as it takes," he said simply.

"And how long is that?"

He didn't answer, just slid the cloak back on and drifted away.

* * *

The rest of the Slytherins trickled back in slowly. Eventually, Josh came out of the dorm to sit alone at a table and work. He walked stiffly, although Sev's sharp eyes saw that thanks to the potion, he was in less pain than he pretended. None of the others looked at him.

Eventually, too, Malfoy returned. There was a sudden flare of tension as he stepped inside, but he just glanced at Josh and briefly curled his lip. So far as he was concerned, it was 'lesson learned'. Sev didn't suppose it occurred to him for a minute that Josh might be anything less than terrified now.

Late that night, when everybody else was asleep, Sev sat up in bed and spoke to Malfoy. "That curse you used; what was it?"

Malfoy's cool grey eyes narrowed. "I would have thought you'd know that, if anyone did, Severus." His tone was mild, but Sev recognised a challenge when he saw one.

"I do," he admitted instantly; pretending would have been a stupid move. "What I don't know is how you got it."

Satisfied, Malfoy grinned smugly. "Oh, I have powerful friends," he said enigmatically.

"I'd like to meet them," Sev threw out, sounding every inch the ambitious Slytherin.

Malfoy yawned and stretched. "Patience, Sev. These things move slowly, you know. He doesn't want to tip his hand."

"'He'?" Snape asked, with just the right tint of eager curiosity.

Malfoy smiled darkly. "'He' is the one who's gonna usher in a new age, Sev. And when he arrives..." he grinned to himself, in the semi-darkness "...oh, we're gonna have ourselves a ball."

* * *

All was quiet for the weeks that followed. It would have been easy to assume that Malfoy had all but forgotten about Josh, or that he was satisfied with what he'd done. Sev knew him better than that. Malfoy could hold a grudge eternally, and what satisfied him now would wear away with time. Sooner or later, he would move against Josh again. Even if Josh never did or said anything else remotely rebellious, those impassioned words after the Quidditch tryouts had sealed his fate.

Lewis's unofficial Gryffindor bodyguards remained in evidence, and Nott and Goyle had pretty much left him alone. If only there could be such a simple solution to his older brother's situation.

If James Potter could be made to see past the fact that he was a Slytherin, Sev had no doubt that he would leap to Joshua's defence. That was because James Potter was too cheerfully heroic to have a clue how incredibly bad that would be.

If any Gryffindor so much as _smiled_ at Josh in passing, he would surely suffer for it. Malfoy would never forget that final crack he'd made when Lucius asked if he'd rather be a Gryffindor.

That was why Sev went back to studiously avoiding Lily. Alerting her to Josh's problem had been a necessary evil, but he couldn't afford to let her know how bad it was. She was too compassionate to not take action, and her intervention might be even more disastrous than James'. Malfoy hated James, but to Lily he considered himself genetically superior. For her to stand up to him would be something he simply couldn't allow. His view of the universe wouldn't let him.

Sev could trust nobody else to watch Josh, so he did it himself. Probably even Josh, who was now much more aware of Sev's role in things, had no idea what he was doing.

One Sunday, he spotted Crabbe and Avery shadowing Josh as he wandered the grounds. The chain of events Sev sparked off to get Professor Malachite there without anybody knowing he was even involved ought to have won some sort of award. But of course, the whole point of such subterfuge was that nobody _did_ recognise it.

As it happened, that particular temporary solution was better than he could have guessed.

Sev 'happened' to wander by in time to see Malachite catch the three boys on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was pretty clear that Crabbe and Avery had planned to chase Josh inside, maybe even get him lost.

Despite their repeated assurances that it was just a prank - Josh, of course, was not stupid enough to argue - Malachite went ballistic.

"It's the _Forbidden Forest_!" he told the three of them. "It's not called the 'ooh, probably not too smart to go in there' Forest. It's not the 'maybe ought to stay away from' Forest. It's Forbidden! It's Forbidden for a reason."

"We were only-" Avery began, trying on the angelic look that usually worked with the Slytherin house-master. For once, it didn't.

"Quiet, Avery. No excuses. And you all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. We're all Slytherins here. We're all wizards here. Wizarding folk should stick together!"

Professor Malachite even took points off them for their foolish behaviour. Since he hardly ever did so, especially from his own house, the Slytherins were all treading warily for days afterwards.

Even so, Sev didn't relax his guard. He kept an eye on Malfoy, looking for any glimpse of chaos being plotted.

Fortunately, Malfoy had other things on his mind. The Quidditch season had started in earnest, and he was training with the Slytherin team most days. And Malfoy being Malfoy, he liked to bring his entire house-group along to show off in front of.

The Slytherin team had changed little from its previous line-up. The Keeper had been promoted to Captain, and Malfoy and a fourth-year boy had been brought in as new Chasers.

The new Captain, Adam Caulstone, was openly contemptuous of the Gryffindor lineup. "Hah! Four of their team graduated last year, including that poser Fletcher. Two of the newbies are second-years, and it's not because they're talented like Malfoy here. There just aren't enough good players in Gryffindor to fill out the roster. Hell, one of their reserves is a twelve-year-old girl on a _model one Comet_." There was a ripple of laughter. "Now, you can argue that that's a charity case, but I think it's a good sign of how desperate they are."

Of course, his words were so much propaganda, but there was an element of truth to them. The Gryffindor team _had_ suffered a blow losing so many players at once; Fletcher, being the kind of person who only cared about the world when he was in it, had gone against usual practice to use all sixth- and seventh-years. The team had been a powerhouse last year, but now there were no able third- or fourth-years to step up and fill the gaps.

However, James Potter was anything but a token player. In fact, he was the only reason the generally scrappy team did as well as they did. They were often losing or barely holding even when he whipped the Snitch out of the air and won them the game.

Slytherin played Hufflepuff first, and then Ravenclaw. They really were a good team, and whilst their victories weren't as flashy as James' last-minute rescues, they were far more solid in terms of gameplay. Malfoy proved himself an excellent Chaser, fast moving on his expensive broom and slippery because he was so small. He had a real flair for dodging Bludgers, and he scored a lot of goals.

The days leading up to Gryffindor vs. Slytherin were even more tense than usual. Last year, Gryffindor had been expected to win hands down - or at least until Fletcher's unexpected tumble from his broom. This year, though they'd won all their matches, they just weren't as good - and the debate raged endlessly over whether one brilliant Seeker and a scrappy team was better than a solid team with no particular flair.

Not, of course, that the Slytherins thought of themselves that way. Malfoy translated a few friendly staff comments about him being a promising new addition into his being the star of the team. He certainly considered himself a few thousand levels above Potter.

"I don't know why Gryffindor don't just concede the match right now," he announced loudly as they made their way to the pitch. "They must _know_ they haven't got a prayer."

He followed the rest of the Slytherins as they squeezed themselves into a space on the stands. The whole school had turned out, and Malfoy would insist on arriving late to make an entrance.

He hopped on his broom and made a few flashy circuits before the game started. Sev, of course, didn't join the general enthusiasm, and Malfoy swooped down to hang in the air before him.

"Cheer up, Sev," he smirked. "This is gonna be a good day for house Slytherin. A _very_ good day." His smile grew more feral. "Today, I'm gonna take down all the thorns in my side in one go. It's gonna be a beautiful day." Whistling happily, he flew off to join the rest of this team.

With Malfoy's words hanging in his ears, Sev noticed for the first time that he'd been wrong; the whole school hadn't quite turned out. In fact, the deserters were from his very own section of the crowd. Nick Avery and Simon Lestrange were nowhere to be seen.

And neither was Josh Matthews.


	5. Chapter Five

Sev was trapped. He was surrounded by house Slytherin on all sides; it was to be Malfoy's finest hour, and there was no way by any reckoning he could possibly hope to leave. Not without calling the attention of the entire school down on him, and shattering forever any hope of gaining Malfoy's trust.

So he was forced to sit through the entire match, contemplating what might be going on that he could do nothing about.

Sev had always relied more on logic than imagination, but there was little comfort to be had there. Logic quite happily agreed that Avery and Lestrange were easily the most dangerous of Malfoy's followers. Both were intelligent, sharp, and took as much or more pleasure as he did in inflicting pain.

Sev was barely paying a flicker of attention to the match, running over in his head every place Josh and his tormentors might possibly be, and what he could do about it. His best chance was for James Potter to pull off his customary greatness, and grab the Snitch extremely early.

Of course, when it was so important, it didn't happen. James was ducking and diving as skilfully as ever, but the two Slytherin Beaters were hot on his tail all the time. Adam Caulstone might talk up how bad the Gryffindors were, but he wasn't entirely stupid.

It was a dark and dirty match. There were penalties every two or three minutes when somebody committed a foul, and Sirius Black nearly got himself sent off for deliberately clunking Malfoy's broom with his club. All of the scheming enraged the crowd, but it only delayed play even further.

Something icy settled in the centre of Sev's chest as Nick and Simon returned to the crowd. They jostled their housemates aside for a place, exchanging satisfied smirks. When Malfoy swooped nearby during a lull in the game, Avery caught his eye and nodded very slightly. Malfoy gave a flash of a grin, and turned a quick victory loop.

Sev reluctantly set aside all his churning plans. Whatever had happened, it was already done. There would be no Gryffindor-esque rushing to the rescue today.

He only hoped that whatever Malfoy's pet psychopaths had done was repairable after the fact.

* * *

The mood in the Slytherin camp was one of celebration. James had, predictably, grabbed the Golden Snitch, but he had done it at the exact same time Malfoy got the Quaffle through a hoop. The draw he had been playing for had turned into a ten-point victory for Slytherin.

If Severus wasn't dancing around the room with the rest of them, nobody was surprised. He returned to the common room only long enough to check Josh definitely wasn't there, then left again with his invisibility cloak. He had taken to carrying it around in his bookbag as a habit; shadowing your fellow students raised too many awkward questions.

For once, his powers of logic were slow to point him the right way. Perhaps it had just not occurred to him to check the library because his brain automatically tagged it a public place.

He had forgotten to take into account that when everybody was at the Quidditch pitch, nowhere else was 'public'. Since when did Severus Snape overlook something so obvious?

Since the icy dark feeling in his chest grew ever stronger, with the sick feeling that this was something he hadn't been able to fix, something he hadn't out-thought or out-schemed. He should have found a better way to keep an eye on Josh. He should have paid less attention to Malfoy and more attention to his followers. He should have-

Josh was in the library.

The lights were dimmed, and not even Mr. Litavori the librarian was there. After all, why would anybody want to in the library this late on the Saturday of the big match? A casual passer-by would probably have not even noticed the tousled blond head slumped over a desk towards the back.

A slightly-less casual passer-by might have seen, and smirked a little over the spectacle of a student fallen asleep at his books.

Sev was not in any danger of smirking.

Irritated at himself for doing it, and yet unable to curb the instinct, he approached the unmoving boy with a great deal of caution. There was a thick tension in the air, as if Josh might at any moment leap up and yell something. And strangely, the fact that Sev knew with absolute certainty that it wasn't going to happen didn't make the possibility seem any less real.

He moved closer, to stand over the slumped Josh. He really did look as though he had simply dozed off over his homework... one cheek was flattened against the desk, and his scruffy hair danced slightly in a tiny breeze spilling through the ancient window frame. From this distance, Sev could see each individual blond eyelash, every line on the palm that dangled limply over the edge of the desktop.

He felt as though he probably ought to be paralysed by guilt, or terror, or something. But even here and even now, that strange blankness at the core of him, that silent place that made him Sev, was still there. Even as in some part of him his stomach surged nervously, there was still a piece of him coolly and dispassionately observing. He wondered if that part of him would still be there the day he died, quietly taking notes as his pulse ran down and his breathing stopped.

While the part of him that still believed in superstitions didn't want to make a move, didn't want to make things final by forcing himself to know the truth, the cool side of him kept right on moving. Any hidden observer wouldn't have seen the tiniest fraction of hesitation as Sev reached out and lightly touched Josh's shoulder.

Josh's arm was warm under his hand, almost startlingly so. Even Sev's soft touch was enough to disturb the balance that kept him in place, and he rolled from the desktop and slumped onto the floor. There was a soft thunk as he hit the ground, but he made no automatic gulp of breath.

At a time when no ordinary boy could have stopped himself from crying out, that dispassionate half kept right on rolling. Sev's face was a blank mask as he felt for a pulse, shifted his hand when he found nothing, felt again.

He didn't even jump for joy when he felt the unnaturally slow pulse of a heartbeat beneath his fingertips. He simply lowered Josh's arm back to the ground, got up, and quietly went to look for a teacher.

Sev had already surmised that Josh's coma was no natural sleep. The teacher he found, Professor Parilia, sent quickly for Professor Ephemeria and Madame Florence. Nothing either of them tried could do anything to wake him.

Gentle little Professor Parilia was bouncing about near to tears, growing more and more distressed. The Potions teacher was calmer, at first, but she became steadily more frantic as none of her tried-and-tested cures produced any result.

Madame Florence managed to prod Parilia into magically floating Josh off to the infirmary. Professor Ephemeria quickly led Sev down to see Dumbledore.

"Are you alright, Severus?" she kept asking him nervously. His silence obviously bothered her; perhaps she thought he had been shocked so deeply he'd gone near catatonic. He wondered if she'd be more or less worried if she understood the cold way his thoughts just calmly kept on ticking.

The professor led the way to the gargoyle outside the headmaster's office. She cleared her throat a little nervously and said raggedly "Sugar puffs." Sev was careful not to look at where the secret door was until it had started to open. Few people knew where the headmaster's office was, and he had only found out by following Lily and James in his invisibility cloak last year.

This time he was there on his own - but he didn't have to worry about it drawing attention. All attention right now would be focused on Josh.

Professor Dumbledore looked up over his half-moon spectacles as they entered. Professor Ephemeria kept a hand on Sev's shoulders, as if he might suddenly take flight if she didn't - or perhaps it was to keep herself steady.

Dumbledore's steely blue eyes were sharp. "What is it, Janeida?" he asked gently.

That was something Malfoy and his kind would never notice about Dumbledore. He might appear to be playful and silly all the time - but he always knew exactly when to be serious and what tone to take.

"Professor, there's been a terrible attack on one of the students," Professor Ephemeria said shakily.

"Attack?" asked Dumbledore sharply. "Magical?"

She nodded, gulping slightly. "Some... some kind of sleeping curse. Nothing I've ever seen before. I couldn't lift it, and neither could Madame Florence."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, taking this news far more calmly than any of his subordinates. "Who?"

"I, uh, I don't know," she stuttered. "I wasn't-"

"Who was attacked?" he explained patiently.

"Oh, I, yes sir. Uh-"

"Josh Matthews," interjected Sev smoothly. Dumbledore transferred his attention to the boy.

"Joshua Matthews," he said, with a slow nod. Perhaps another headmaster might not have been able to place the name of a medium-average student like Josh, but Sev had little doubt that Dumbledore could do it. He had a strong suspicion that stored in the headmaster's name were the exact same kind of carefully gathered scraps of information as he put together in his own. Dumbledore missed nothing.

He narrowed his gaze at Snape, and said amiably "A friend of yours?"

"Not really," said Sev, holding his gaze. In the moments' silence that followed, he was certain that Dumbledore knew exactly how Sev chose to interact with those around him, and probably more of his motivations than anyone else bar Josh and Lily.

"And you found him?"

"He was in the library." His voice remained as toneless as ever. He could have injected distress or anxiety into it if he desired, but Dumbledore wouldn't be fooled.

"And can you tell me who might have done this?" the headmaster asked.

Sev was intrigued by his choice of words; very intrigued. As if he was asking not if Sev knew, but whether he would tell. As if he had a very clear idea of what was going on here...

"No, sir," he said, meeting the headmaster's gaze steadily. The bright blue eyes that looked back at him were as unreadable as his own.

* * *

The Slytherin common room was abuzz before Sev got back. In a castle full of ghosts and moving paintings, nothing stayed secret for very long.

The gossip that filled the room and the questions that were begged of Sev might have sounded wholly shocked and innocent. That was until you noticed the slight aura of guilt, the furtive glances at Malfoy and his allies. The other Slytherins were shocked that this had been done to Josh - but none of them were surprised.

A few minutes later, Professor Malachite came in to see them. He gave a big speech about how they shouldn't panic, and how this was a terrible, terrible thing but they should all pull together in this time of crisis. Malfoy made all the right noises and innocently shocked faces, but Sev could see the smile in his eyes throughout.

It had been Avery and Lestrange who had put the curse on Josh, he knew, but it hadn't been on their own initiative. This little slice of the Dark Arts had to be another present from Malfoy's mysterious 'friend'. Whoever he was, he clearly delighted in giving power to people who knew how to misuse it.

Perhaps Malachite noticed the way Jack Brisingamen and Stuart Flint were shuffling their feet and looking at the floor. If he did, he no doubt assumed it was a manifestation of their nervousness and distress.

At the end of his speech, he pulled Snape aside to speak with him privately. "Severus, do you have any idea who did this?" he asked, fixing him with an earnest gaze.

Carnus Malachite's stern but friendly visage might intimidate some students, but he was no Albus Dumbledore. "No sir," said Sev quietly, without a flicker of hesitation over the lie. He couldn't resist adding "Do you?" Nothing of the barb to the words made it into his voice, but it was there all the same.

Professor Malachite just frowned worriedly, then clapped him on the shoulder and left the Slytherin rooms. If his mind flew back to the day he'd seen Crabbe and Avery tormenting Josh, he obviously never made the connection.

That night, as they retired to the dorms, Stuart Flint made immediately for his bed and curled up under the covers, avoiding the kind of casual chat he usually made with his room-mates. Malfoy and Nick Avery, by contrast, were openly boisterous, crowing over the days victory, and occasionally exchanging little glances that made it plain they weren't really talking about the Quidditch match.

When the others had drifted off, Malfoy observed quietly "Terrible thing, about poor Joshua. Tragic, really."

Sev made a noncommittal noise.

"And then, well, to have one of his own housemates stumble over him like that... no wonder we're all so traumatised." It was dark, but Sev could picture the look in his eyes all too clearly. "Why, they must be scouring the school to try and find the perpetrators. I might suggest to them they take a look at that Sirius Black. He was _so_ annoyed when we beat his team at Quidditch. Yes," he gave a breathy sort of chuckle. "Yes, I might just do that."

He rolled over under his blanket, going back to what for him were probably pleasant dreams.

Sev didn't wait around. Normally he let everybody get deep into their sleep patterns before he risked going out in his invisibility cloak, but today he hopped straight up and pulled it on. He headed straight for the infirmary.

As he'd suspected, Lewis was seated there, staring down at his comatose brother with a broken expression on his face. Sev stationed himself unobtrusively in a corner to watch over the younger boy.

Listening to Madame Florence and Professor Parilia talking softly, he caught the words "Parents... Lithuania... Thursday." He recalled something Josh had said once about his parents being research wizards in far-off parts. Clearly, the teachers were having trouble contacting them.

Lewis also appeared to be listening in on the adults' conversation. He tensed as their words sank in, and then got to his feet with a sudden sharp movement.

He moved over to his brother's bedside, and softly leaned down to kiss his cheek. He stood looking down at Josh for a moment with a tremble to his lower lip, and then he turned on his heel and headed out of the infirmary.

Sev silently followed him back to the painting of the Fat Lady, the guardian of the Gryffindor dorms. He didn't go in, but waited outside. Something in Lewis's gait had reminded him of James and Sirius. He saw them sneaking around occasionally, when he was on his invisible midnight patrols, moving through the corridors with a quiet determination.

That was what he had seen in Lewis Matthews; determination.

A few moments later, Lewis emerged from the hole behind the painting. There was a bulky bag slung over his shoulders, and Sev suspected it contained all his worldly possessions.

Lewis had taken enough of the treatment that had been handed out to him and his brother this past year. He was running away.

There was an odd mix of nervousness and surety on his face as Sev padded through the corridors after him. For the first time, Sev could see the spirit of the Gryffindor behind the nervous little boy he'd seen cower from Nott and Goyle.

Lewis Matthews' courage was not the fiery James Potter kind, or the fierce self-confidence you could see in Lily. He had the courage of conviction - the ability to go through with a plan that any other eleven-year-old might well have abandoned as too scary.

For, as Sev followed him out of the main building, he saw where Lewis had decided to run to; the Forbidden Forest.

In a way, it made sense. Nobody really had the first clue what was in the forest, not even Hagrid who seemed to like the place. Sev realised that Lewis was not just running but finding a place to hide out; somewhere he would be close enough to watch what was going on without the Slytherins knowing he was there.

However, though it was a brave plan it was not the wisest one he could have come up with. The Forbidden Forest was, as Professor Malachite had so loudly pointed out, Forbidden for a reason. In Hogwarts, keep out rules were never just because the teachers happened to say so. Sev resolved to follow him in and make sure he at least found somewhere relatively safe to hide.

As Lewis stumbled through the underbrush, Sev was able to follow him by the sound of his heavy breathing. Courage, after all, was not the same as fearlessness, and Lewis was plainly terrified.

It was harder to move through trees than corridors without making a sound. Sev was forced to pick his way slowly so as not to alert Lewis, and he fell gradually further behind.

Suddenly, he heard an ear-splitting shriek from up ahead. He heard the sound of Lewis' overloaded bag being thrown to the ground, and a moment later the crash of his panicked flight through the trees.

Trying to chase Lewis now would be worse than useless - the sound of Sev's pursuit would only terrify him further. Instead, Sev ducked a few branches and picked his way towards where he thought Lewis had been startled.

The gaps between the trees widened out into a mini-clearing; he could see a few stars peeking through the clouds far above. Hand on his wand, Sev looked around for some magical creature that might have put the younger boy to flight.

He was so busy looking around that he didn't look down. He tripped over something, and fell heavily. Inspecting his wand carefully to make sure he hadn't broken it, Sev said "_Lumos!_" and flicked the magical light over to the object he had caught his foot on.

It was a human skull.


	6. Chapter Six

Sev automatically stumbled a few steps backwards. Impassive or not, there was something utterly instinctual about recoiling from a skeleton.

Once automatic reaction was done, cool reflection kicked right back in. It was a skeleton; it was far beyond any help he could have provided, and there was no reason to be afraid of it. He took a closer look.

He tried to judge how long the bones might have lain there. They could have been picked clean by scavengers, but there were also remnants of clothes, and they were rotting. Sev was no expert on decomposition, but common sense could still guide him. In the damp atmosphere of the forest, this body had probably been here somewhere between a matter of months and a few years.

It was hard to tell anything from what was left of the clothing; it looked to have been a dark-coloured robe, but what did that prove on Hogwarts grounds?

The bones had been somewhat scattered; perhaps by animals, perhaps partly from when he - and presumably Lewis - had stumbled over it. Even so, he could glean some sort of rough idea of the size of the skeleton, and he didn't think it had been a child; not a young one, anyway.

Snape stepped closer, as his magical light glinted off something metallic on the ground. He knelt down, ignoring the slightly spongy ground as mud soaked into his robe, and picked it up.

It was a small golden earring, twisted into an elaborate coil. A cursory inspection of the ground found its twin. After all, the skull no longer had ears to hold them in.

Sev held the pair of them in his palms and studied them thoughtfully. They were familiar... He closed his eyes, and allowed his mind to flood back; back over a thousand vividly stored memories, snapshots of his life.

The right one slotted into place, and his eyes snapped open. Yes, he had seen these earrings before... last year in fact. In his astronomy classes.

He looked at the skeleton again, but it was still just bones. The knowledge hadn't changed it. Even knowing that this was her corpse, he couldn't see anything of Professor Cephus in it.

The mystery of her absence was no longer so mysterious. How long had she lain dead here? Since the start of this school year, or the end of the last?

He briefly pondered how she had ended up in the Forbidden Forest, but dismissed it as useless. There were too many ways she could have been lured out here, and there was no proof that this was even where she'd died.

The silent bones offered no clue as to how it might have happened, so he started to comb over the immediate area. Perhaps there was no reason to expect to find anything, and yet...

It was something about the way the body had been dumped that bothered him. The... incompleteness... of it. If you had gone to the trouble of hauling the body out to the Forbidden Forest, why not drag it deeper inside? Why not bury it, or cast some subtle masking spell?

And that, naturally, led to the conclusion that it hadn't truly been meant to be hidden. Whoever had dumped it had _wanted_ it to be found... just not immediately.

The killer didn't want their actions to be known, but they wanted the result of them to be. A message was being sent. And somebody who wanted to send this kind of message wouldn't take the risk of it being missed or misunderstood.

He found the note pinned to a nearby tree. It was a rolled up scroll, held shut by a rusted nail through the bottom. Sev took the nail-head in his fingertips and pulled it free. The scroll flapped open.

The words were written in an ornate, cursive script. Sev wouldn't have been incredibly surprised if the ink it was written in turned out to be blood - although he would have betted that if it was, it wouldn't be the author's. This was not a furtively scribbled note, but a carefully planned missive. Somebody was showing off their sense of drama.

It was difficult to read by the light of his wand, and he leaned in closely. The note read; _The blood of wizardry has been diluted. We will suffer these wretched half-breeds no more. Signed: the Brotherhood of the Death Eaters._

The name was unfamiliar to him. Next to the final 's' was what looked like a dark blot on the paper. Sev placed a hand behind the note to pull it closer to his eyes, and then leapt back as green light flared. Reflexes had him halfway across the clearing, wand out, before he recognised that this spell was not a magical boobytrap.

The tiny star of sparkling green that drifted outwards and upwards seemed utterly incongruous - like a fairy light or a fragment of a firework. Then, as Sev watched, it split in half and in half again. The lights multiplied rapidly, forming a globe of dancing lights several feet across, easily visible against the black of the night sky.

The lights swarmed around each other like miniature fairies. They bunched together, and then spread out again, taking on a new shape. Before his eyes, they formed into an obscenely grinning skull, hugely and distorted with a snaking tongue. In one of the eyesockets the lights flared in a supernova wink.

Sev waited for the lights to dissipate, but they merely hung there. Even if Lewis hadn't gone dashing straight back up to the school to find the headmaster, it wouldn't be long before somebody noticed the unholy light display.

He still had his invisibility cloak, though he had tugged it off to move more easily amongst the trees. Now he slid back under it, and sat quietly on a treestump to wait.

The huge magical skull high above bothered him far more than the real one lying inches from his feet.

* * *

He heard the voices of the searchers long before they appeared in the clearing. Malachite and Dumbledore; they had come alone, and come quickly. No doubt the enormous hovering skull had convinced them more powerfully than any wild story of Lewis's.

Professor Malachite sounded angry, and somewhat out of breath. "I'm telling you, Albus, it's a prank. I'll bet it's that Potter boy again. Ellida lets him and Black get away with murder."

"The same could be said for some of your house, Carnus," Dumbledore pointed out mildly. His voice carried through the silence of the night, but Sev didn't think he was too far away. He had of course extinguished his magical light, and the two teachers had a fair amount of ground to search even with the skull as a rough guide.

"I should think, with everything that's going on," Malachite observed bitterly, "people should see that my house are very much the victims here. But no; whenever house Slytherin is involved, all the old prejudices come out."

"It can be easy to fall into that trap," Dumbledore acknowledged. His voice sounded further away now; he was somewhere off to Sev's right. "And it can be easy to fall too far out of it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, sounding both irritated and confused. "You talk in riddles, old friend."

"Don't be blinded," Professor Dumbledore cautioned him. "Others see nothing because of their prejudices, but you see just as little when you're so defiant of them."

There was a brief silence, and then Malachite said sharply "This is about Malfoy, isn't it?"

Sev could picture the headmaster's expression - that gentle little upwards flick of his eyebrows that let you know your words were foolish, but he was going to let you dig your own grave anyway. "I merely warned that it might be wise to take a closer look at his activities."

"Well, I've looked, and I see nothing to be bothered by!" the Dark Arts professor snapped. "Lucius Malfoy has the potential to be a great wizard!"

"With that, I won't argue," said Dumbledore mildly. "But you should remember that there's a difference between a great wizard and a good wizard."

Malachite grumbled something inaudible. His voice grew louder as the two searchers turned back towards the clearing. "Why is it always Malfoy with you? He's far from the only mystery in house Slytherin. Take Severus, if you will."

Dumbledore made an acknowledging sound that might have been agreement.

"I mean, I don't know what's wrong with the boy," Malachite said, half to himself. "He's so bright! But he won't let anyone near him. Lord knows I've tried to get him interested in things, tried to get him to open up, but he just doesn't seem to see what I'm doing."

"Oh, he sees more than you give him credit for," Dumbledore said quietly.

Malachite made an exasperated 'ha!' sound. "See, this is how it always is with you, Albus. You think you know these students better than they know themselves. Well, sometimes, you know, what's on the surface is exactly what's underneath. You're seeing things that just aren't there."

"No," the headmaster corrected gently. "I'm just seeing things that are really there. You'd be amazed how few people know how to do that."

Sev never got to hear Malachite's response to that, because at that point he stumbled across the clearing. He swept his lit wand out in a cursory inspection, and then froze. "Albus!" he called urgently.

The teacher moved gingerly towards the skeleton, and stood looking down at it. In the shadows, his expression was unreadable.

Dumbledore emerged from the trees to stand beside him. He didn't look shocked so much as gently sorrowful, as if this had been what he was expecting.

"Well, it appears young Lewis was less disturbed than you all seemed to think," he observed quietly. He looked up, at the still-hovering skull. It had been there near a half-hour now, but the light had not begun to fade. "And this, my friend, is anything but a prank," he added darkly.

Malachite's attention was still focused on the skeleton. "Who is it, do you think?" he asked.

Dumbledore's expression melted back into sorrow. "That, Carnus, I can tell you. Dear Auriga; what could such a gentle soul have done to deserve this?"

Malachite started in shock and took an involuntary step backwards. He seemed genuinely startled for the first time. "Wha- How can you know?"

"I had my suspicions as soon as Lewis Matthews came charging into my office," he said. He stepped forwards, and picked up one of the ornate earrings from where Sev had replaced it. "And this only confirms them," he added softly.

"Auriga Cephus," said Malachite, and he closed his eyes. He rubbed at his chest nervously, as if he was suddenly having difficulty taking breath.

Dumbledore's sharp eyes had spotted the note Sev had untacked on the tree-trunk. He moved over and pulled it free. "Well, our culprits have identified themselves," he said, showing it to Malachite.

"Death Eaters?" The Dark Arts teacher clutched his arms up against his chest, as if hugging himself against a sudden chill.

"A name I've heard before..." Dumbledore admitted darkly.

"Before?" asked the other man nervously.

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "There have been rumours of a growing organisation for some time now. I have friends amongst the Aurors; they send me news of what's going on at the edges of society. A few times now I've heard mention of these Death Eaters. One of my correspondents spoke of a 'mark' they displayed over the scenes of their crimes." He shot a dark look at the hanging skull. "Now I know what he meant."

He scowled down at the piece of paper, then produced his wand from the inside of his robes. He whipped it towards the dark blot on the page and snapped "_Deletrius!_" The skull shrank down to a single point, and then melted back into the paper.

Dumbledore crumpled it, and thrust it inside his robe with the wand. "Come, Carnus," he said, his face falling into stern lines. "The Ministry must be notified."

Sev followed them back to the school.

* * *

The team of specialists from the Ministry appeared rapidly, and with minimum fanfare. Even Sev's invisibility cloak wouldn't get him inside their meeting; they set numerous wards and detectors outside the door of the headmaster's office.

However, he didn't really need to be inside to know what went on. The men from the Ministry went out to the forest and quietly retrieved the skeleton. Sev suspected they took the note, as well, and from the thundery look on Dumbledore's face he knew they'd ordered the headmaster to keep silent about it. It was just like the Ministry to 'not want to alarm people', but that had never been Dumbledore's way. He believed that however young they were, his students had a right to know the truth of what was going on.

Dumbledore had the Ministry men do one more thing before they departed; Sev followed them down to the infirmary and watched as they set up powerful anti-darkness wards around Josh Matthews's bed.

The following Friday, the headmaster called the school together for a special assembly. It was a much graver affair than most such gatherings; everyone had heard about Josh, and the rumour of the mysterious skull in the night had been spreading around.

When Dumbledore stood, there was little trace of his customary twinkle on display. "I have grave tidings on two counts," he said without preamble.

"I regret to inform those of you who remember her from last year that Professor Auriga Cephus is no longer among the living." The ripple of dismay that spread through the crowd was subdued; it had been nearly a full year now, and old teachers quickly faded out of students' memories. "Professors Alomanicia and Melusine will continue to cover her classes until we can appoint a replacement next year." He paused briefly.

"You have all, no doubt, heard about the unprecedented attack on one of our number: Joshua Matthews." Most people's eyes flickered guiltily over to Lewis; Sev's went straight to Malfoy. He was gazing up at Dumbledore with an innocently curious expression. "It is a dark time when even students have to guard themselves against magical attacks; but it seems these are dark days indeed. I do not believe anything like this is likely to happen again on Hogwarts grounds in the near future, but I would ask you all to be on your guard. If you see anything suspicious, I would ask you to come and see me or your head of house immediately. Perhaps a little paranoia is justified, in days such as this."

A murmur of disquiet travelled through the room.

Finally, Dumbledore broke into a smile. "However, I now have some much better news on that front. Madame Florence informs me that the treatments she has been trying are now beginning to have some success, and she's fully confident that Josh will awake from his coma in a matter of days."

The relieved applause that exploded across the room was louder nowhere than at the Slytherin table. Perhaps only Sev knew that what they were _really_ applauding was the lessening of the weight of their own guilt.

* * *

Sev was there when Josh awoke. He waited until Madame Florence chased out his weeping parents and overexcited brother to sweep off the invisibility cloak and reveal himself.

Josh didn't seem surprised to see him. He smiled humourlessly, and said "I thought you'd be here."

This was the time, if there was a time, for heartfelt apologies and confessions. But Josh wouldn't want to hear them, and Sev wouldn't know how to give them. He just nodded in acknowledgement.

"You're leaving," he stated. It wasn't a question, but Josh nodded anyway.

"Mother thinks it's time Lewis and I went into private tuition. She always talked about us doing that anyway, but..." he closed his eyes briefly "I wanted to go to a proper school. Well, now we've had the Hogwarts experience." He gave another bitter smile. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world," he said wryly.

"They asked you who did it?"

"And I said I didn't know," Josh confirmed. He shrugged. "It wouldn't make any difference anyway." He looked up at Sev. "You were right. I didn't want to believe you, but you were right." He laughed quietly to himself. "It doesn't work if you fight. It doesn't really make any difference."

He fell silent for a long time, looking at the curtains. Then he straightened up in bed and met Sev's eyes again. "Lewis and me, we're getting out while we can," he said. He gave Sev an unreadable look. "Maybe you should do the same."

"I'm not trying to get out, I'm trying to get in," he pointed out quietly.

Josh nodded slowly. "Good luck," he said, with a half-shrug. His face tightened. "I think you're gonna need it."

* * *

The Matthews family packed up and left the next day. Malfoy and his cronies were loudly triumphantly, but their glee rang hollowly in the suddenly oppressive common room. The other Slytherins didn't seem to want to meet each other's eyes anymore.

The departure of Lewis and Josh sent ripples of disquiet through the whole school. Even those who hadn't known them were disheartened by their leaving, and the atmosphere in Hogwarts was changing. The teachers, Dumbledore most of all, began to look stern and worried. People were beginning to be afraid.

Even the train ride home for the summer vacation had little of its customary jubilation. Sev suspected that Josh and Lewis were not the only ones who would not return next year. The fabled Hogwarts had lost some of its air of safety, and everyone was feeling the aftereffects of that loss of innocence.

Sev, however, hadn't had much innocence to begin with, and there were other, far more concrete matters to worry over. Malfoy had revealed much more of his dark side and some of his newly-gained power, but Sev still was no closer to discovering his mysterious allies.

Even more troubling was that note left with Professor Cephus's body. The choice of Josh as Malfoy's victim had been near arbitrary; pure schoolboy spite. Josh had been a random victim; what happened when it was somebody Malfoy had a true vendetta against?

As the train pulled into the London station, Sev happened to glance across at the next carriage and see Lily and her friends tumble out. They had regained something of their sense of fun, and were cheerfully bidding each other goodbye.

Seeing Lily laughing with her friends like that made him feel a sudden pang of some melancholy he couldn't quite identify. He scrabbled in his bag, and pulled out the invisibility cloak. Then he took out a scrap of parchment, and scribbled out a few brief words.

In the crush of the station, he managed to brush by her, and slip the cloak into her school bag, with the note tightly wrapped up in its centre.

_Be careful, and take this. I think you might need it._

** End**


End file.
